


keep your eyes on me (and your lips on mine)

by scorpio_szn



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Overstimulation, Restraints, Smut, and ingrid making him pay for it, just... sylvain being nasty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:06:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26925580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpio_szn/pseuds/scorpio_szn
Summary: Dorothea showed Ingrid the new couples choreography she finished at the end of last semester. The one Sylvain helped her with. The one that keeps her up at night.Ingrid didn't realize that meantshewas going to do it.Shealsodidn't realize that meant her partner was going to be Sylvain.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 20
Kudos: 60





	keep your eyes on me (and your lips on mine)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sinningjul (Julx3tte)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julx3tte/gifts).



> you ever watch couples dances on youtube and just go like _damn_.
> 
> no?
> 
> me neither.

Ingrid narrows her eyes at the email she just received, then glares at Dorothea who sips her drink casually across the table with a poorly concealed smirk on her face.

“Really, Thea?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Grimacing, Ingrid slides her phone screen over to Dorothea. “ _You’re_ the one who sent the email.”

Dorothea barely spares the phone a glance and shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re so upset about, Ingrid. You and Sylvain have been dancing around each other for ages, what’s the difference between that and dancing on him?”

Ingrid chokes. “We have _not_ been… been dancing around each other! And this is a _couples_ dance, Dorothea. _Your_ couples dance.”

Her friend takes another sip, completely unbothered. “Mhm. What’s your point?”

Ingrid thinks back to the past year’s dance set and flushes bright red, remembering the way Dorothea’s choreography indulged in _heavy_ use of legs and hips along with barely-there uniforms… And then the piece Dorothea showed her a few months ago? To do that? With _Sylvain_? With his hands on her bare skin and his face pressed into her neck—Ingrid sputters out, “I’m not—I can’t! It’s not my style. Never has been.”

Dorothea’s eyes glint and she finally sets her drink down. “And that’s exactly why I’ve invited you out, Ingie.”

Heart still pounding in her chest, Ingrid looks warily at her friend. “To the mall?”

Her friend’s smile grew wider. “We’re buying you a pair of stilettos and I’m taking you to heels class this weekend.”

Ingrid’s blood runs cold and she’s pulled out of her seat before she can argue.

* * *

Not only did Dorothea shove her into four-inch lace-up stilettos, but she also dressed her in a strappy black crop top and cut-off shorts. Now, she stood to the side of the classroom on wobbly legs with sweat lining her brow, trying to catch her breath. Ingrid was no stranger to working out and pushing her body to new limits, but dancing in heels was an _entirely_ different monster. She’s sore in places she didn’t even know _existed._

Without a second to spare, Dorothea linked arms with her and drags her forward to where the class instructor is stretching on the floor, her pink hair pooling around her. Dorothea leans down and presses on her back further, eliciting a grateful groan from her. “Thanks, Thea! I needed that.”

Dorothea smiles toothily back. “Absolutely, Hilda. It’s always a pleasure taking your workshops.”

“Not that I don’t love seeing you, but you haven’t been by in a while. Did you need something?”

Dorothea pulls Ingrid forward. “I’d like your assistance in a… side project of mine. If you have the time of course.”

“Hey—What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hilda sits back up and rolls her neck, her eyes flashing briefly to Ingrid’s. Surprise flickers across her face before settling into a delighted smirk that she has seen _far_ too many times on Dorothea. Ingrid gulps apprehensively as Hilda stands and circles her like a vulture, finger tapping against her lips.

A pair of hands rest on her shoulders and Ingrid stiffens automatically as Dorothea laughs in her ear. “Relax, Ingie. You did great in class today. I just want Hilda to help me… up the ante on your stage presence.”

Hilda grabs Ingrid’s hands and smiles. “I’ve heard _all_ about you, Ingrid. You’re a great dancer! You’re executing all the moves and I love the confidence, but… I think there’s just a _little_ bit more you’re capable of.”

Ingrid blinks. “…Heard all about me? From who?”

Dorothea and Hilda exchange a look and Ingrid suddenly feels like bolting. “ _No—_ ”

Two pairs of hands grab her arms and Ingrid is stuck staring at her flushed reflection as pink and green eyes smile at her innocently in the mirror. “He was _so_ panicked about the assignments, Ingrid. I had to block him for 48 hours to get him to stop.”

“I—”

“Not to mention how red his face got when I asked him who his partner was. I honestly considered taking him to the hospital for heat stroke.”

Her eyes dance from Dorothea to Hilda, butterflies growing in her stomach. _Sylvain was embarrassed too?_

Dorothea sweeps her hair off her shoulder and rests her head against hers. “He’s just as scared about messing this up as you are, Ingrid. So, why don’t you give him a little encouragement during practice, hm?”

Hilda rests her chin on her other shoulder and hums. “But not too much! You have to save a little _something_ something for the actual performance to really knock him out.”

Ingrid’s mouth dries. “Wh—I’m not trying to _kill_ him!”

Hilda and Dorothea raise their eyebrows. “We are.”

“I—”

“Show me your choreography, Thea. I’ve got to see what I’m working with.”

Dorothea complies happily as Hilda sidles up behind Ingrid, hands sliding down her arms as Dorothea explains the next step, mischief plastered all over her face. “I know I’m not as big as Sylvain, but just pretend I am until your actual practice. Now, _really_ roll your hips back into me, don’t be shy!”

Ingrid almost loses her balance on the next body wave. 

* * *

Annette wraps up her session and calls for a water break before letting Dorothea run her practice. Ingrid lets her head drop back against the wall, breathing as evenly as possible after the numerous drills Annette ran them through.

She brings her water bottle to her lips and nearly jumps out of her skin when Sylvain plops down next to her. “Any to spare? Water fountain’s got traffic.”

Practice with Dorothea and Hilda was going surprisingly well. Her confidence in heels was growing every week and despite their teasing, Ingrid really _was_ learning to become more comfortable with the style. Learning to enjoy it and have fun with it even. She’s got most of the moves down now, and they’ve been prompting her to add a little more style and flair before the actual practice in pairs.

Which is today.

Which she thought she was ready for.

Turns out, all that practice with Dorothea and Hilda still didn’t prepare her for the way Sylvain’s warmth bleeds into her skin as he’s pressed up against her arm, pouting full force for her water. She shoves her water bottle at him and nudges him off her. “It’s too hot for that, Sylvain.”

He takes her water happily and takes several big gulps. Ingrid tries _very_ hard to ignore the column of his throat and the bead of sweat that rolls down his neck as he drinks. She averts her eyes quickly when he sighs in relief, setting her water bottle back down on the floor and leaning heavily on her shoulder. “You’re the best, Ing.”

“ _Sylvain,_ get off, it’s too hot—”

He whines pitifully as she tries nudging him off, only burrowing deeper into her neck despite her efforts. “ _Ingriiiiiiid, please?_ I’m tired. Annette’s choreography wasn’t made for someone my height! The level changes have me winded…”

Ingrid flushes as his breath washes against her skin and she fidgets in place. “Sylvain—”

“Besides, I’m gonna be even closer to you in like, five minutes, because of Dorothea’s piece.”

She chokes on her inhale and he springs off her. “Ingrid? You okay?”

Still coughing, Ingrid shakes her head quickly and reaches for her water. She takes a few sips and exhales shakily. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Sylvain eyes her with concern until Dorothea claps her hands twice, his head whipping over as she calls for the selected couples to gather. Dread pools in her stomach as Sylvain’s attention returns to her, hand reaching out to pull her to her feet. She hates how her stomach flips over when she grasps his hand, something it _never_ used to do two months ago until that _one_ practice she caught him choreographing with Dorothea.

 _This_ choreography.

The one that haunts her at night and makes her blush, makes her lose _sleep_ imagining his hands on her _—_

Ingrid lets go quickly once she’s standing, intent on heading over to Dorothea when Sylvain catches her elbow, voice low. “Hey, are you… are you okay with this?”

Ingrid’s throat tightens as she looks at him, his eyes searching hers. “Okay with what?”

Sylvain’s lips thin and he subtly jerks his head in Dorothea’s direction. “I know Thea’s choreography isn’t your usual style and you don’t usually sign up for these types of dances… I tried texting her, but she—”

“She blocked you, I know.”

“She—you know?”

Ingrid bites her lip and sighs. “She took me shopping the same day she sent the email.”

Sylvain blinks at her a few times, and odd flush climbing his cheeks as his mouth opens and closes. Gulping audibly, he chances another glance at Dorothea before leaning in closer. “We… This won’t be weird, right? We’ll be okay?”

Ingrid looks over to Dorothea too and gets a raised eyebrow in response. She flushes and looks back at Sylvain who is now studying his beat-up sneakers intently. Sucking in a deep breath, she grabs his hand and his eyes snap up to hers. “We’ll be fine, yeah.”

“You’ll tell me if I’m making you uncomfortable?”

Her heart twists in her chest and she sighs. “It’s choreography, Sylvain. You’re just doing what you’re told.”

He squeezes her fingers and gives her a look. “Ingrid.”

She gives his hand a tug, small smile on her face as she leads him to where the rest of their team waits. “You’re my best friend, Sylvain. I trust you.”

Ingrid tries to dampen the fluttering in her chest at the smile he flashes her before he throws an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. They join the semi-circle around Dorothea as she starts her running her block, sending the pairs off in formation. Once they get into starting position, Ingrid exhales slowly as she feels Sylvain step behind her, his hands hovering over her hips. “Good?”

Ingrid catches his eyes in the mirror and nods.

The heat of his palms seep through her joggers and his thumbs brush against the sliver of skin right under her shirt. It takes everything in her not to shiver as she places her hands on top of his and his head presses into her hair.

Dorothea counts them through the first section without music, then a second time at the same pace, then a third time slightly faster. By the fifth run-through, Ingrid is on auto-pilot, only semi-cognizant of Sylvain’s hands on her. _Dancing with Hilda helped after all._

“Get some water and we’ll try some music next.”

Dorothea’s voice snaps Ingrid out of her zone and Sylvain whips his hands off her like she’s burned him. Before she can even ask what happened, he’s already dashed off to the water fountain, letting the water hit his flushed face in a way that Ingrid’s not sure if he’s trying to rehydrate or if he’s trying to drown himself.

A chin rests on her shoulder. “Looks like those heels classes paid off, Ingie.”

She bites her lip. Sylvain is still bent over the water fountain until Felix hip checks him away. She watches him sputter indignantly as Felix pointedly ignores him. His eyes find hers, like the usually do whenever Felix ‘wrongs’ him. Instead of launching into his usual dramatics, his eyes widen before he turns his head sharply away from her, his ears burning red and wringing his wrists.

Her chest tightens and her skin tingles where Sylvain last had his hands. Dorothea snickers into her hand and pats Ingrid on the back. “He’s a right mess. It’s what he deserves.”

Sighing, Ingrid turns to her friend. “What did he do this time?”

Dorothea’s eyes flicker over to Sylvain before returning to her, looking thoughtful. “I thought that’s what you two were whispering about before you came over.”

Her brow furrows. “What are you talking about?”

Dorothea pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. “That idiot.”

“Thea? What did he do?”

Sighing again, Dorothea leans in close to her ear, murmuring, “he’s the one who asked for you to be his partner for this dance when he found out you agreed to it.”

Ingrid’s stomach lurches violently. _He asked for her?_ She catches his eyes again, heat shooting down her spine when he holds her gaze instead of turning away, brown eyes burning into her. Ingrid drops her gaze and looks back Dorothea, who only offers her a teasing smile before walking back to the speakers to play the music.

Sylvain rejoins her and rubs the back of his neck. “Hi.”

Ingrid wills her voice not to crack. “Hi.”

His eyes jump to Dorothea, then back to her, his ears still red. “Did, uh, Dorothea say anything to you?”

_He asked for you._

Ingrid swallows thickly. “No. Why?”

Sylvain shifts his weight on his feet and shakes his head quickly. “Nothing.”

The music begins and Dorothea calls for starting position. Before Sylvain steps behind her, he taps her wrist twice, eyes peering into hers. “Still okay?”

Not trusting her voice, she nods and tries to breathe as evenly as possible as his warmth envelopes her again, his hands settling back on her hips, her muscles jumping when his fingers squeeze lightly. The music starts and his hands travel up her sides and down her arms, lacing their fingers together. His face presses into her neck and she rolls her hips into his on the beat.

Her heart skips at his sharp inhale, his grip tightening on her with the second roll of her hips as she leans into him. He steps back with her for their synchronized body wave, then snaps her to face him, cheeks flushed, eyes dark. Ingrid bites her lip as she slinks closer to him, then pushes off his chest with the sound of the snare, her blood pounding in her ears.

_He asked for her._

* * *

The next few practices don’t go any easier.

Their performance is tomorrow. For the past few weeks, each of the choreographers had different nights of practice dedicated to cleaning each of their pieces. Even though he’s only touching her _that_ way once a week, she’s hyperaware of his eyes on her during the other practices.

Outside of practice too.

Their usual routine hasn’t changed, but they’re… _touchier._ Their hands would brush more often than not, and it’d send a jolt down her spine each time. He sits closer too, to the point she can feel the heat radiate off him. She finds her eyes trailing after him when he gets out of the shower, hair wet, the line of his back disappearing beneath the towel sitting low on his hips. She looks away before he catches her, heat pooling in her stomach as she pushes past him into the bathroom.

They still have their movie nights on the weekends, where they end up falling asleep on the couch on top of each other after an exhausting practice. Before, Ingrid would be able to wake up with his hair in her face and she could push him off without a second thought to get their day started.

Now, the only thing she can think about is how his weight presses her into the cushions when he lies on top of her, arms wrapped around her back and nose pressed into her neck—

She gasps as Sylvain’s hands skirt high on her ribcage when he pulls her close, towering over her when he rests his forehead against hers. His chest heaves underneath her hand, trying to catch his breath as the song fades out. His cheeks are flushed when his eyes find hers, pupils blown with performance adrenaline. Ingrid’s fingers tighten in his shirt when he wets his lips, eyes dropping down to her mouth.

“Good run-through, everyone! Thanks for going all out, I think we can call it a night. Get some rest and we’ll have our full dress-rehearsal tomorrow afternoon.”

Ingrid untangles herself from Sylvain and ignores the twisting in her chest when his face falls slightly. She bites her lip and takes his hand, squeezing it. “Hey, I’ll… I’ll meet you back at the apartment, okay? I need to talk to Dorothea.”

He squeezes back, looking torn between waiting for her and wanting to say something else. She taps his wrist twice and nods at him. “Go. I’ll tell you later.”

He frowns but squeezes her hand one last time before packing his bag and bounding off to catch up to Felix.

“Hmm, you two need to bang.”

Ingrid feels blood rush to her cheeks, and she whirls around. “ _Dorothea!_ ”

Dorothea stands behind her, hip popped and head tilted. “Or maybe don’t. We could use that tension on the stage tomorrow.”

Ingrid sighs and rubs her temples. “That’s the _problem_ , Thea.”

“What, the tension?”

“ _Yes_. Ever since we started practicing in pairs, he keeps… he keeps _touching_ me, but not.”

Dorothea quirks an eyebrow at her and she flushes. “He… I don’t know! We haven’t changed, but he _lingers_. He lingers and he keeps looking at my mouth, and I can’t stop thinking about his hands—?”

“The hands that are all over you during the dance and look like they’re gripping you like a lifeline? The hands that look like they’d slip under your clothes the moment you’re both alone?”

Blush deepening, Ingrid glares at her friend. “I’ve been dancing on him the last two months, he hasn’t—”

“Jumped you? Well, I wouldn’t either if my best friend told me that she trusts me and wouldn’t make her feel uncomfortable.”

Ingrid mind reels to a stop and she blinks. “What?”

Dorothea raises her eyebrows at her. “Sylvain may be a horny bastard, but he’d never want to make you do something you didn’t want to Ingrid.”

_You’ll tell me if I’m making you uncomfortable?_

_You’re my best friend, Sylvain. I trust you._

Ingrid’s heart stops. “I… I didn’t think he would—"

Dorothea smiles and places her hands on her shoulders. “Take you that seriously? Of course he would, Ingie. You’re everything to him, he’d sooner hurt himself than hurt you.”

She feels her ears burn as Dorothea shakes her head in mock disappointment, voice pained, “poor boy’s probably taken more cold showers in the past month than he has in his entire life.”

Ingrid thinks back to all the times she watched him get out of the shower and her stomach lurches. _Was he thinking of her?_

“Doing all right there, Ingie? You’re awfully red. What could you _possibly_ be thinking about right now?”

Ingrid jumps and flushes at the smirk on Dorothea’s face. “ _Thea_. I’m not… What was I _supposed_ to say to him? When he asked if I was okay with being his partner for this dance—"

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe something along the lines of where you _actually_ want his hands to be—"

Ingrid pushes Dorothea’s hands off her, cheeks flaming. “We were at _practice_ —"

Dorothea sighs, her smirk dropping and concern bleeding into her voice. “Teasing aside, what _do_ you want Ingrid? You know he’d do anything for you.”

Her eyes drop to her fingers, fiddling with them as she remembers how Sylvain’s hand fits in hers. “I… don’t know, but I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Then, why don’t you go home and _tell_ him that?”

Ingrid’s chest tightens. _Sylvain nestled in the crook of her neck, his hair tickling her face. The way he burrows into her deeper when she tries waking him up in the morning after their movie night. The small little smile he gives her before she shoves him off._

“Or show him. Hilda and I didn’t teach you all that for _nothing_.”

Ingrid chokes on her inhale and stumbles over to the water fountain.

* * *

She steps into a dark apartment where she finds Sylvain stretched out on the couch with her favorite blanket thrown over his waist, fast asleep. His laptop is setup to a movie, casting a soft glow over his face and Ingrid feels her heart melt. Quietly setting her bag down, she sits slowly at the edge of the couch, brushing back the hair on his forehead, smiling softly. “You didn’t have to wait for me…”

At her voice, Sylvain groans lightly and blinks, eyes finding hers. He shifts on the couch and makes more room for her, hand reaching for her as he tugs her down on top of him. Ingrid’s breath freezes in her chest as his warmth surrounds her, his sleepy hum resonating into her. “Everything okay?”

Ingrid fidgets in place, Dorothea’s words running through her head. _What do you want Ingrid?_ Her fingers tighten in his shirt, blood pounding in her ears. “Yeah, everything is fine. Just…”

“Just?”

She props her chin up on his chest and her stomach knots, his face far closer than she realized _._ She gulps and licks her lips. “I just… I wanted to ask Dorothea about the ending of the dance, get some extra feedback since it’s the end of our set too.”

Sylvain blinks, shifting underneath her. “Oh, what’d she say?”

Ingrid meets his gaze and bites her lip. His eyes drop briefly to the movement before darting back up to her eyes, pupils wide as he studies her. Arms trembling, she pushes off his chest and stands, holding her hand out, her voice barely a whisper, “run through it with me?”

_He’d do anything for you._

Sylvain rises from the couch and takes her hand.

She pushes the coffee table back with her leg, making more space in the living room for them to go through the motions. He follows her lead as she gets into starting position, her breaths getting shallower as Sylvain steps up behind her. His palms are hot on her skin and she nearly shivers when he whispers in her ear, “ready?”

Letting out a shaky breath, she nods.

With Sylvain’s hands on her, they go through the entire dance step by step. Slowly.

Deliberately.

Ingrid rolls her hips into his, the back of her neck heating with Sylvain’s stuttered breath on her skin. Her back arches more with every twist and twirl he leads her through, his fingers dragging along her sides more than they did during practice as he gets on his knees, eyes burning into her as she looks down and meets his gaze.

The next step pulls her away from him, but she can still feel the heat of his hands on her hips. They step in sync for the footwork, their breathing in time, and Ingrid can’t help the tiny gasp that escapes her when Sylvain comes up behind her, hands sliding across her stomach as he pulls her closer.

His warmth leaves her in a rush, her legs wobbling with the next sequences of steps. She finishes the last body wave and feels Sylvain’s hands on her again. Their breaths come in short puffs as he pulls her in for the end move, nose brushing against hers as he leans down, hands flitting up her ribcage, sending electricity across her skin. “What did you want to change?”

Her eyes move from his lips up to his half-lidded eyes, and back down to his lips. Her hand trails up from his chest to the back of his neck. She steps even closer to him and her fingers slide into his hair as his breath hitches. “Ingrid?”

Her heart is hammering in her chest as his eyes fall to her lips. “You asked for me.”

He tenses beneath her touch, eyes flying back to hers, but her hands tighten on him to keep him from bolting. “You asked for me and I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Sylvain’s breath hitches in his throat when she pulls his head down and seals her lips to his.

His mouth is hot against hers and Ingrid can’t help but clutch his hair tighter as he moans into her, his arm wrapping around her waist, bringing her impossibly closer, fingers digging into her skin. He exhales sharply through his nose when she drags her nails along his scalp, lips pressing urgently against hers as she whimpers into his mouth. His arms tighten further around her, one hand burning a trail up to cup the back of her neck. She feels him lick at the seam of her lips and she breaks away with a gasp, breathing hard. Her hand slides back down to his shoulder, leaning back, eyes closed. She wets her lips, fingers tightening on his shirt as she tries to relearn how to breath. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

Sylvain ducks his head and catches her lips with his, fingers tangling into her hair as he locks her against him. He licks at her again and Ingrid melts into him, hands fisting in his shirt as she opens her mouth. His tongue curls around hers and everywhere he touches her is on _fire._ Sylvain drags her bottom lip between his teeth and Ingrid feels her head spin with every breath he takes from her. His tongue swipes into her mouth again and her back arches into him as his other hand slips just under the waistband of her shorts.

Ingrid breaks off with a moan and turns her face to the side, panting hard. Undeterred, Sylvain kisses along the line of her jaw and fixes his lips to just behind her ear, growling into her skin, “you drive me crazy, Ing.”

He nips at her before returning to her lips, tongue sweeping into her mouth as he tilts her head back further. She keens as he drags his hands back down to her hips, hands grasping at his shoulders while he works his lips over hers. Sylvain hums into her mouth before breaking off, chest heaving, forehead resting against hers. Her breath comes in short pants as his eyes flicker open to find hers, squeezing her hips tightly as his thumbs brush over the waistband of her shorts. “You drive me absolutely _insane._ ”

Skin tingling, Ingrid pulls him in again, lips meeting his as she presses herself closer. She tentatively licks at him, shivering at the way his groan resonates from his chest into hers as he opens his mouth for her. His tongue is hot against hers and she exhales slowly through her nose as he curls it around hers. Lungs burning, Ingrid pulls away, head lolling to the side as Sylvain kisses the corner of her lips. He trails his kisses to the corner of her jaw, then to the shell of her ear, his whisper hot against her skin. “You’re all I think about.”

She shudders against him as he leaves a trail of wet kisses down the arch of her neck, nuzzling into the crook of her shoulder, voice dark and low. “You and the things I want to do to you.”

Then, he bites down and Ingrid _whines_ as his hands climb to rest under the curve of her breast, heat shooting down her spine while his fingers twist in the material of her shirt. Her hands fly to his head as he sucks lightly. Her grip tightens in his hair, tugging at the ginger strands as he licks gently, his lips brushing against her heated skin. Breaths short, Ingrid brings his face back to hers, resting her forehead on his as he shoots her a weak smile. “Dancing with you is going to kill me.”

Tongue darting out to wet her lips, Ingrid leans forward to drag his bottom lip between hers, nibbling gently as he groans into her. His fingers flexing on her ribcage as she pulls back, eyes on his. “Show me.”

Sylvain blinks at her, eyes half lidded as Ingrid presses another kiss to his lips, murmuring against him, “show me what you want to do.”

She watches him swallow, voice barely above a whisper. “Show you?”

Her nose glides along his and her breath ghosts over him, fingers trailing along his jaw, to his lips. “Dance with me.”

His tongue darts out to catch her fingertips, eyes darkening further as he peels her away from him. Heat pools in her belly as he turns her with her back facing him, hands tracing the curve of her spine before settling on her hips. She feels Sylvain’s chest press up against her, lips brushing against her ear. “Count me in.”

Ingrid’s breath hitches as she lifts her arms into starting position, shivering as Sylvain presses a kiss to her neck and pulls her hips flush against his. Her mouth dries as he blows gently on her skin. “On eight.”

He hums lightly, lips still attached to her neck, and Ingrid can’t _think_ straight. Instead of counting off, she rolls her hips back and smiles to herself at his pained hiss. Her arms fly down and out with the second roll, arching back up as his hands drag up her sides. She gasps as they skim over her breasts, wasting no time in getting to her shoulders for their body wave.

Ingrid leans heavily into him as her torso rolls down, every inch of skin on her arms his hands cover sets her aflame. Blood pounds in her ears as Sylvain grinds into her with an extra dip of his pelvis, her breath stuttering as she feels him hard against her. When he snaps her to face him, his eyes pierce hers as he pants heavily. He doesn’t let her push off him when she slides her hands up his chest.

Sylvain locks her against him, one hand snaking up her back to the nape of her neck. His other arm tightens around her waist as he ducks his head to catch her lips.

Ingrid melts into him as he clutches at her hair, moaning as he licks into her mouth again. His fingers slide underneath her shirt while she walks them into the nearest wall. He lands against it with a quiet huff, shooting her a quick smirk before flipping them over. His eyes drop to her shirt. “I think this needs to go.”

His hands climb higher and Ingrid gasps at the rush of cool air as he lifts her shirt completely off her. Sylvain immediately descends on her neck and she whimpers as his heat envelopes her, his hands hot on her ribcage. He presses a kiss to her bare shoulder and trails along her collarbone. She inhales sharply as his tongue dips into the hollow of her throat, his thumbs brushing against the underside of her bra.

Her entire body trembles as he starts kissing down the center of her chest, nipping at the curve of her breast before going lower. Her abdomen tenses as his lips ghost against her belly button, voice shaking, “Sylvain…”

Sylvain looks up at her, hair falling into his eyes as he presses a kiss at the edge of her shorts, licking his lips. His breath is hot as it washes over her skin, hands squeezing her thighs as he taps his finger against her twice. “Still good?”

Her hands tangle in his hair as she nods, blush high on her cheeks when his fingers undo her shorts. She gasps as he tugs lightly, peeling back the denim until he presses another heated kiss against her hipbone. He bites down gently and smiles against her skin when she shudders, legs trembling beneath his touch. Sylvain noses the line of her panties and licks the lace edge teasingly when he tugs on her shorts again. Her knees knock against his shoulders and he presses her further against the wall, his hands returning to her hips, keeping her in place. Ingrid breath stutters in her chest as he looks up at her, pressing a kiss to the other side, lips brushing against her sensitive skin as he murmurs, “I’ve got you.”

Sylvain tugs on her shorts again and they fall loose over the swell of her hips, dropping to the floor. Her abdomen twitches underneath his fingers as they dance along the edge of her underwear, her heart stopping when he snaps the band against her skin. Ingrid tightens her grip in his hair, voice wavering, “ _Sylvain._ ”

His thumb brushes against her hip and dips beneath the band. He taps her leg twice and looks up again, smiling. “We okay?”

Chest tightening with every brush of his thumb, Ingrid smooths his hair back from his forehead, heart fluttering. “We’re okay.”

He nips at her hips again and then grabs the lace with his teeth. Her legs tremble as he slides down, his cheek brushing against her skin as he descends. Her underwear drops to her feet on top of her shorts and Ingrid feels _incredibly_ bare. She gasps when Sylvain’s finger traces the trail of wetness along her inner thigh and bites back a whimper when he smiles lazily at her, licking the tip of his finger. He moves closer to the wall, his knees spreading her legs farther apart as he lifts one over his shoulder, slipping her shorts and panties off completely.

She stumbles with the weight change and grasps his shoulders as he re-stabilizes her against the wall. The coolness of the wall on her heated skin makes her hand fly to her mouth, letting her head fall back as she tries to stifle another moan when Sylvain presses another kiss _so_ close to where she wants him.

Where she needs him.

But _just_ far enough that he nips at her skin again and she lets out a breathy moan. “Sylvain, please…”

She hears his low chuckle and the coil in her stomach tightens as he rests his cheek on her hip, fingers trailing dangerously close to her core. Ingrid flushes as he licks his lips. “Please what, Ingrid?”

“Please, stop teasing me— _ah!”_ His finger ghosts across her folds and comes back wet, his tongue darting out to lick it clean. She gasps when his arms wind around the curve of her ass and cants her hips forward. His breaths come in hot puffs against her center and Ingrid’s breath hitches as she meets his darkened gaze. He winks. “Then, eyes on me.”

He dives in and Ingrid screams.

Her knees buckle, hands grasping at his shoulders as the tip of his tongue licks a slow stripe up to her clit. Sylvain readjusts his grip on her and presses his face even closer, his tongue tracing tight circles on the bundle of nerves. Ingrid bites back a moan when his lips surround her clit, humming long and low while his fingers dig into her thighs. Her cheeks burn when he pulls back, mouth glistening as it stretches into a lazy smile. “So messy, Ing. It’s going to take me forever to clean you up.”

“S-Syl— _nngh._ ”

Her toes curl and she doubles over as Sylvain returns to her clit, sucking gently. Her hand flies to her mouth, biting down on her knuckles when he drags his tongue along her slit. He dips the tip into her before flattening his tongue to lap at her. Her back arches off the wall as he blows against her gently and Ingrid squeezes her eyes shut, her breaths shallow as he presses a kiss to her inner thigh. “You’re so sweet, Ingrid.”

His tongue flicks her clit again and she whines as his fingers join his mouth. “So wet for me.”

She throws her head back, moaning loudly as he slides a finger in without any resistance, clenching around him as he strokes deep inside her. Ingrid whimpers when he adds another finger, lips back on her clit as he slowly fucks into her. She gasps when he thrusts even further, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “Sylvain, I-I can’t— _ah!_ ”

Her leg gives out when he scrapes his teeth against her clit, tears burning her eyes as he sucks harder. He hums against her again, tracing a lazy circle with his tongue before pulling back. “Do you want me to stop?”

She moans as he slows his fingers to languid strokes, his thumb replacing his tongue as he peers up at her. “N-no. Don’t stop.”

Ingrid flushes hotly when his dark eyes meet hers, trembling as he adds more pressure with his thumb and licks his wet lips. “Don’t stop?”

His thumb makes another slow circle and she shudders in his hold, shaking her head. “Don’t stop.”

She jumps when he drags his nail over her clit and blows on her lightly. “Good. I wasn’t finished with you yet.”

Sylvain’s head ducks back between her legs and she can’t help her breathy moan when he sucks her clit back into his mouth, tongue swirling in tight circles. Two fingers push back inside her and Ingrid’s jaw drops as he picks up the pace, thrusting fast and deep. He hums again and Ingrid cries out as the vibrations send jolts down her spine. His lips pop off her clit and Ingrid feels herself get wetter with the heady look in his eyes as his breath washes over her. “You don’t know how long I’ve thought about this, Ing.”

Her chest heaves as Sylvain slows his fingers down, withdrawing them until just the tips remain just inside of her. “You always smell so good after your showers,” his fingers sweep back and forth along her wet folds until he thrusts back in quickly causing her breath to hitch.

He withdraws his fingers slowly again as Ingrid tries to catch her breath, electricity shooting down her spine as his words ring in her ears. He draws another lazy stripe before pushing in deep again, smiling against her thigh as she moans again. “I’ve always wondered what you taste like.”

Sylvain removes his fingers completely and spreads her folds before he fucks his tongue back into her. Ingrid throws her head back with a scream as her muscles go taut, her hips bucking into his face while he suckles lightly.

“ _Please,_ Sylvain. _Please_ , I can’t. I’m— _oh Goddess—_ ”

His fingers replace his tongue as he continues to thrust into her, his lips pressing a hot kiss to her hip. He scissors his fingers inside her and he groans as her whole body shakes against him. “You’re so tight for me, Ing,” he strokes at a soft patch of tissue that makes her keen loudly as she clenches tightly around his fingers.

Sylvain presses another kiss to her hip and drags his teeth along her skin as she whines, her fingers tangling in his hair while he strokes against the same spot. “You’re doing so good, you’re so close.”

He flicks her clit with his tongue and Ingrid bucks in his grip again, body shuddering violently. “Sylvain, _please_. _Please—”_

Sylvain sucks hard on her clit while thrusting deep into her, fingers curling inside her and she _screams,_ her back arching off the wall as her vision whites out. He continues lapping his tongue at her folds, fingers slowing when she slumps back down, legs twitching as Sylvain continues to work at her.

She squirms in his grip when he doesn’t let up, whining when he starts circling her clit with his fingers. “Sylvain, wait— _ah!”_

He licks a languid stripe along her slit as he speeds up his fingers on her clit. “One more time for me, Ing.”

The coil in her lower belly tightens again as Sylvain’s tongue parts her folds, thrusting in and out in time with the circles on her clit. Mind still hazy from her first peak, her hips buck against his mouth again as he pinches the swollen bud and presses his tongue deep inside her. She bites hard on her lip with every pass of his fingers, legs starting to shake again. Sylvain pulls back, voice husky as he slides his fingers back into her. “That’s it, babe. One more.”

Ingrid’s back flies off the wall when he reattaches his lips to her clit, sucking hard, a hoarse cry escaping her throat as she tips over the edge again.

Sylvain keeps his fingers inside her, thrusting shallowly while he lowers her to the floor, lips trailing up her body as he nuzzles into her neck. Ingrid moans lightly, shifting beneath him as he sucks on her pulse point. She squirms away from his fingers and pushes at his shoulders when he chuckles against her skin. He nips at her neck one last time before pulling back, eyes alight with mischief as he licks his lips. “You okay?”

Ingrid mock glares at him and pushes his face away with her palm, her cheeks heating at the wetness on his jaw. “No thanks to you.”

Sylvain licks at her palm and smiles widely when her hand flies away from him. She huffs at him. “ _Sylvain._ ”

He settles his weight on top of her and cages her with his arms. ” _Ingrid._ ”

She holds his gaze as she slides her hands up his chest, rolling her hips experimentally against his. Sylvain shudders violently against her, head falling to her chest as she rolls her hips again. “ _Fuck_ , Ingrid.”

Her heart pounds at his sharp hiss, belly stirring again at the thought of making him do it again. Ingrid trails her foot up the back of his leg, humming lightly as she hooks a leg around his waist and pulls him forward. He groans again at the contact and grinds his hips against hers. Her back arches with the movement, still sensitive from before when she gets an idea.

Skin still tingling from coming twice, Ingrid drags a hand through his hair before bringing his face back up to hers, whispering into his ear, “you’re wearing too many clothes.”

Sylvain springs up, hands flying to the back of his shirt as he reaches overhead to pull it off. Ingrid’s eyes flit to the line of his abdomen and feels heat shoot down her spine. Just as Sylvain’s head pops out, shirt around his elbows, Ingrid topples him over and brackets his hips with her knees. Her hands scrunch his shirt in the middle, trapping his hands as she settles her weight on top of him. Ingrid squeezes his sides with her thighs and groans with him when he bucks up into her, his voice tight, “ _Goddess,_ Ingrid. You’re still so wet.”

Ingrid twists his shirt tighter and grinds into him again, reveling in the way his arms tense in the tangled mess of his shirt as he strains to reach for her. She presses a light kiss to his jaw as she drags a nail over his nipple, smiling when his breath catches in his chest. She leans away when he turns his face to catch her lips, knuckles white as he tries to free his hands again. Ingrid licks a stripe down his neck and sucks on his collarbone, squeezing him between her legs again as he writhes beneath her. “ _Ingrid._ Let me touch you— _fuck!_ ”

She rolls her hips again and hums against his skin. “I think you’ve touched me enough tonight, hm?”

Sylvain whines when she lifts off him, lips hovering over his as she presses her chest into his. “It’s your turn.”

Ingrid leans back as he cranes his neck to kiss her, biting her lip as he huffs. Sylvain’s head falls against the carpet, groaning when she settles back on top of him. She drags a hand down the middle of his chest, tilting her head as his eyes find hers, wild and desperate. “Ing, _please_.”

She digs her nails into his skin, smirking when he squeezes his eyes shut, breath coming in short pants as his arms tense again. “Please what, Sylvain?”

Sylvain moans incoherently and bucks his hips again as she shifts lower, her hips slotting against his as she rubs herself along his covered length. He hisses when she presses down harder, her own eyes fluttering shut with the friction from the fabric of his pants. She draws another circle with her hips and moans lightly, “ _Goddess,_ Sylvain. You make me feel _so_ good…”

Her hand tightens in his shirt as he tries to reach for her, keeping his hands firmly pinned above his head. His chest heaves underneath her, jaw tight as he bucks up against her again. “ _Please,_ let me touch you, Ingrid. _Please—”_

Ingrid ducks down and catches his lips with hers, tongue delving into his mouth as he shudders beneath her. She moans into him when she tastes herself on his tongue, the coil in her stomach tightening as she remembers the heat of his mouth between her legs. She pulls back with a gasp, eyes half-lidded as she takes in Sylvain’s dazed expression, his lips parted and face flushed. Ingrid taps his cheek twice and licks her lips. “You’re so pretty like this.”

His breath stutters against her skin before she leans away to drag his earlobe between her teeth, nibbling gently as he arches into her. Her nose glides along the shell of his ear and she murmurs, “don’t move your hands.”

She feels his hands flex in his shirt, but they ultimately stay put over his head when she pulls back, his eyes locked onto hers as the blush on his face reaches his neck. Ingrid smiles and lets her nails scratch lightly down his chest, digging in deeper when he shivers. Her fingers trail along the lines of his abs and she leans down to press a wet kiss to his skin, tongue dipping into his navel as his muscles ripple beneath her.

Ingrid trails kisses to the waistband of his pants, fingers hooking into them as he groans loudly above her. “ _Ingrid_ …”

She tugs his pants down, kissing every inch of new skin she reveals. Sylvain’s entire body shakes as she peels away his boxers, gasping raggedly as she pointedly ignores the way his cock springs up and continues to roll his pants down his legs. Her cheeks heat at the thought of how hard he is for her.

How he keeps his arms restrained above his head because she asked him to.

Her nose glides along his thigh, smiling as he jerks against her, breathy curses coming from above. “ _Fuck_ , Ingrid. You’re killing me.”

Propping herself up on her knees, Ingrid gently blows on the tip of his dick and presses his hips down as he groans desperately. She trails a finger along his shaft, following a ridge up until she swipes a finger over the weeping slit, smile growing on her face. “I haven’t even started yet, Sylvain.”

Sylvain whines and thrashes beneath her when her thumb presses over the slit again, rubbing precum over the head of his cock. Ingrid watches his arms shake as he tries to keep his hands where she asked, blood thrumming beneath her skin as she takes in his glazed eyes and disheveled hair. _She did this to him._ Her thumb makes another pass and Sylvain keens, face turning into his restrained arms as his breath comes in harsh pants, pleading, “ _please,_ Ing _.”_

Ingrid bites her lip and adds more pressure, the heat between her legs growing again as Sylvain jerks and lets out another low moan. “Please _what_ , Sylvain?”

“ _Please_ , touch me, fuck me, anything, _please_ —” Sylvain’s voice cuts off in a strangled gasp when Ingrid wraps her lips around the tip of his dick, tongue lapping over his slit.

He shudders violently beneath her, abdomen taut beneath her hands as she holds him down. She braces her forearms against his hips as they buck up again, Sylvain’s stuttering breaths reaching her ears. Ingrid swirls her tongue around him one more time before popping off, eyes meeting his. “Are you going to stay still for me?”

Sylvain whines again, legs trembling. “I can’t, Ingrid. I— _fuck!_ ”

Ingrid wraps her hand around him finger by finger, squeezing lightly. “Are you?”

Sylvain’s chest heaves as he looks wildly at her, face completely flushed, eyes wet. “Ingrid, _please_. I’m trying, I’m _trying—”_

He breaks off in a desperate moan as Ingrid takes him back between her lips, fingers stroking lightly along his erection. She laps at the tip before licking a stripe along the underside of his dick. Sylvain chokes on his breath as she grips the base of his cock, slowly twisting up to meet her lips as she bobs her head.

She pulls back slightly, just until her lips cover his tip. Her eyes flicker to his, her skin flushing to find his dark eyes fixed on her, mouth parted with beads of sweat lining his forehead. She keeps her eyes on him as she sucks lightly, heat pooling between her legs when his face crumples and he turns his head back into his arms, every line of his body filled with tension.

Ingrid hums lightly around the head of his dick, eyes crinkling as Sylvain gasps and bucks into her. Inhaling deeply through her nose, she pushes lower, moaning with how he fills her mouth, his length hot against her tongue. She moves to take him even deeper when she hears a faint tearing of fabric before she’s yanked up and Sylvain’s lips crash into hers.

They both groan simultaneously when Sylvain lifts her in his lap, his hands running all over her body as he coaxes her mouth open. His tongue sweeps into her mouth and Ingrid arches into him with every curl of his tongue against hers. Sylvain’s fingers drag up her spine before snapping her bra open. Ingrid breaks away with a gasp as he tears the fabric away, lips reattaching to the side of her neck. He bites down and growls into her skin, “keep that up and I would’ve come in your mouth.”

Ingrid throws her head back, whining as his thumbs find her nipples, rubbing tight circles while he sucks at her collarbones. “Is that what you wanted, Ingrid?”

She jerks under his touch as his lips dip further down, her legs tightening around his hips. “I— _ah!_ ”

Sylvain’s hands scorch across her skin, pressing her even closer to him as he takes one breast into his mouth. He suckles hard, the flat of his tongue laving over her areola before pricking his teeth against her nipple. She shrieks as it sends electricity straight between her legs, her fingers tangling into his hair as the heat of his palm covers her other breast. He massages roughly and Ingrid presses her chest further into his hands, whining as his thumb brushes over her nipple again.

With one final suck, Sylvain pops off and wraps her legs tightly around his waist before he stands, hands flying to the curve of her ass and gripping tightly. Ingrid grapples for his shoulders at the sudden change in height, head spinning as Sylvain buries his face into her neck. “Bed _._ ”

Her thighs squeeze his waist, her breaths coming short with every jostle of his stride toward his room. As soon as they’re through the door, Sylvain tosses her on the bed, hands flying to his nightstand for the foil packets she used to roll her eyes at.

Arms trembling, Ingrid props herself up on her elbows, drawing her knees in as she watches Sylvain tear a packet open with his teeth, dark eyes fixed on her. She bites her lip as his hand drops to his cock, stroking twice before rolling the condom on. Her eyes flicker back to his, rubbing her thighs together as Sylvain stalks toward her, eyes blazing.

She’s barely able to retreat up his bed when he climbs on top of her, pinning her wrists to his mattress, lips pressing urgently against hers. Ingrid opens her mouth to him immediately, back arching off his sheets to press her chest into his. He pulls away with a hiss, resting his forehead against hers as he pants heavily. Sylvain takes a few gulps of air and wets his lips, eyes finding hers. “Still okay?”

Ingrid’s chest warms and she hooks a leg around his waist, pulling him close. She inhales sharply as his length brushes against her wet folds, eyes shuttering with his low groan above her. She opens her eyes again and cranes her neck to kiss him, murmuring against his lips, “still okay.”

Sylvain smiles against her lips and kisses her back, pace slower than before as he settles his weight on top of her. He drags his length along her slit one more time, swallowing her gasp with a sweep of his tongue. Leaning back just so, he lets go of her wrists and tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Tell me if I’m hurting you?”

Ingrid wraps her arms around his neck and brings him down for another kiss, rolling her hips and smiling into his lips as he groans into her. “I trust you.”

Sylvain presses her harder into his bed, one hand trailing down her side until it settles on her hip, the heat of his palm spreading across her abdomen. He locks eyes with her and tilts her hips up, tip prodding at her entrance and Ingrid’s breath stutters in her chest. “Good?”

Thighs trembling, she nods quickly and Sylvain starts pushing in. Ingrid’s back arches as she moans weakly, fingers gripping his sheets as he advances slow, letting her adjust around him. His breaths come in sharp pants, his frame shaking with restraint as he tries not to slam the rest of his length into her. “ _Goddess,_ Ingrid. You’re so tight, you’re doing amazing.”

Ingrid moans again, her walls fluttering around him as he continues to stretch her. She gasps sharply as his hips meet hers, his dick rubbing even deeper than his fingers. Breathing shallow, Ingrid shifts slightly and bites her lip at the way Sylvain shudders above her. She shifts again and he grunts, jaw tight as he keeps himself from moving. Squeezing her thighs, Ingrid runs a hand through his matted hair and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You can move, Sylvain.”

Ingrid feels the shiver run down his spine and was just about to tease him more before he draws his hips back and thrusts deep into her. Her jaw falls open with the way his length drags inside her, Sylvain drawing out her moans with every push of his hips, his face burrowing into her neck as she arches against him. “You feel so good, Ingrid. You’re so good for me.”

Fingers fisting in his sheets, Ingrid’s cheeks flush with the slick sounds of Sylvain slamming into her, her moans growing louder as he picks up the pace. “ _Sylvain,_ I— _nngh!”_

She jolts involuntarily when Sylvain brushes against something deep inside her. He slows for just a second to angle his hips before thrusting in again, Ingrid’s entire body going taut as he hits the spot again. She throws her head back, keening loudly as Sylvain adjusts his grip on her, bending her legs closer to her chest as he pushes in again. He presses a sloppy kiss to the side of her neck. “Close?”

Ingrid shudders violently against him when he draws his entire length out before slamming back in. “ _Goddess, Sylvain, please—”_

Sylvain repeats the motion and slides a hand to her clit, fingers pinching the bud as he continues to suck at her neck. “That’s it, almost there babe.”

Ingrid cries out when his fingers start rubbing tight circles on her clit, thighs trembling as Sylvain spreads her wider and pumps into her faster. Her hips buck wildly against him with every stroke of his cock inside her, the tension coiling in her stomach threatening to snap. “Sylvain, please, _please._ I’m so close.”

Sylvain bites down on her neck before pulling back, eyes finding hers as he presses harder on her clit. He catches her moan with an open-mouthed kiss, tongue delving between her lips as he snaps his hips into hers. “So close, Ing.”

She whines as he pinches her clit again, his dick driving up into the spot that makes her see stars. Her breath hitches as Sylvain hits the spot again and presses another searing kiss to her lips. “So good, so close.”

“ _Please, Sylvain, I can’t—”_

His fingers make another pass around her clit and whispers into her mouth, “come for me, Ing.”

Ingrid screams as her back arches off his bed, her muscles clenching tight around Sylvain as he continues to fuck her through her orgasm. Her entire body trembles as Sylvain keeps up his pounding pace, chasing his own high as she lay spent beneath him. “ _Fuck,_ you’re so tight Ingrid.”

She moans as he thrusts deep inside her one last time, shuddering violently above her as he spills into the condom. He collapses on top of her, weight pressing her into his bed, sighing contently. Ingrid snorts as he nuzzles into her neck, but ruffles his hair as his arms slide up her back to hold her closer. “Shouldn’t we clean up?”

Sylvain groans and burrows deeper into her. “Don’t wanna.”

Ingrid pinches his ear and smiles at his whine when he props up on his chin to pout at her. “ _Ingrid._ ”

She quirks an eyebrow at him. “ _Sylvain._ ”

He pushes his bottom lip out further, eyes wide as he tries to keep her in bed for a few moments longer. Ingrid raises her other eyebrow and he sighs. “ _Fine._ ”

He leans away and Ingrid _almost_ regrets asking him to get off, but they need to _shower._ She gasps and whines softly as Sylvain pulls out of her, legs pressing together as he carefully removes the condom and ties it off. He tosses it into the trashcan before turning back to her, a different look in his eye.

Ingrid is immediately apprehensive. “ _Sylvain—”_

Before she can protest, Sylvain scoops her up and carries her to the bathroom, plastering sloppy kisses all over her face. “You said _we_ should clean up, no?”

“ _Yes,_ but—”

“Then, let’s save water and shower together.”

Ingrid pushes his face away, unable to hide the smile growing on her own. “I _know_ you know how bad of an idea that is.”

Sylvain whines as he sets her down in the bathroom. “But _Ingrid_ , we still have dress rehearsal tomorrow. It’ll save us time!”

She opens her mouth to argue when she freezes. _Dress rehearsal. Tomorrow. The performance. Dorothea. The rest of the team._

Ingrid flushes a bright red, mind racing as she scrambles to come up with an excuse for the marks on her neck, not noticing that Sylvain has already turned the shower on. “Sylvain, what are we going to tell— _what are you doing!”_

Ingrid yelps when Sylvain tugs her under the warm spray of the shower, his hands sliding over her as he ducks his head to catch her lips in a wet kiss. His lips move slowly against hers and Ingrid melts into him, her heart fluttering as she clutches at his shoulders. Sylvain pulls back just so, lips still brushing against hers as he murmurs, “we don’t have to tell anybody if you don’t want to,” he leans in to kiss her again, smiling against her lips.

“Besides, I’d rather keep tonight’s performance to myself.”


End file.
